


Palace

by pinkstrawsrawr



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, Heartbreak, M/M, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkstrawsrawr/pseuds/pinkstrawsrawr
Summary: It had all been very slow moving. Both of them too shy. Instead they'd found ways to be alone without ever actually going on a date. A darkened room at a dinner party, where, ops, they both happened to end up. Sitting in that dark room, knees touching, Dorian daring to reach out and touch Cullen's hair, soft and curly under his fingers. Moving closer, leaning in. Hearts pounding.They'd been so young.





	Palace

 

   Dorian is folding clothes. Putting them in moving boxes along with books and other items belonging to Cullen. Done packing, he lights a fire in the livingroom (in a stove, he's heartbroken but he's not planning to set fire to the house and just let everything burn even though he has half a mind to do it). He pours himself a glass of wine, settling in the sofa with two blankets. Looks into the fire, tries not to be nostalgic, but fails.

   It had all been very slow moving. Both of them too shy. Instead they'd found ways to be alone without ever actually going on a date. A darkened room at a dinner party, where, _ops_ , they both happened to end up. Sitting in that dark room, knees touching, Dorian daring to reach out and touch Cullen's hair, soft and curly under his fingers. Moving closer, leaning in. Hearts pounding.

   They'd been so young.

   Then busted in a sudden light, a friend who'd wondered where they went and didn't understand what was going on at all.

   They'd danced around each other some more. Eventually another friend had realized what was going on and had taken matters into her own hands. She'd set up a movie date, the three of them. She'd never showed up and Dorian and Cullen found themselves on their first date. It was a horror movie and not the kind where you laugh at jump scares, but the kind that is truly terrifying and Dorian and Cullen had clutched hands in the dark, clammy palms. Flushed faces afterwards. Nervous laughs.

   Then Dorian had decided enough is enough. What a waste of time, not really knowing if Cullen wanted him like Dorian wanted him. People do this kind of thing for years because they're too afraid to put themselves out there.

   Dorian shifts in the sofa, swallowing down some wine, refilling his glass. It hadn't really occured to him then why some people are afraid to put themselves Out There. Of course he knew in theory, but he didn't actually know. Until now.

   But he'd done it then, been brave because he didn't know better than not to be brave. They'd sat in a sofa at a friend's house. The others were in the kitchen preparing dinner and Dorian was hugging a pillow to his chest, mumbling about the Elephant In The Room. _What elephant?_ Cullen had asked, and then Dorian had to explain the saying; you know, we both know there is something big here, but we're ignoring it. Oh. _Oh_. He'd told Cullen that he liked him more than he should, more than what's wise maybe. It's perfectly fine (lie; it would have been terribly disappointing), if he didn't feel the same way, but why not take it as a compliment then? And continue on as friends?

   Cullen had been quiet for some time and then with a strange smile asked if Dorian had anything against beards. He was doing No Shave November and he was going to get quite beardy. _Ah_ , so... That explained the somewhat rugged look. Also, what did it mean? Cullen asking him that? Were they going to make out? Was Cullen telling Dorian they were going to be rubbing faces?

   As it turned out, he was.

   Cullen got very beardy very quickly, and it would feel pretty harsh against Dorian's clean shaven face in the beginning (he'd only ever stuck to his signature mustache when it came to facial hair), but then Cullen's beard had gotten fuzzy and soft. November had come and gone and the beard stayed, grew longer and Dorian fondly called him Santa Claus throughout December. He'd run his fingers through Cullen's beard and hair. Playfully tug at it when he wanted a kiss. And in response Cullen had made a habit of tweaking Dorian's mustache and call him _Mr Fancy Pants._ Dorian had always pretended to be insulted by this, but really he'd been secretly pleased to have acquired a nickname no matter how terrible it was.

   The beard had gone after winter.

   Dorian has emptied his wine glass, again. The fire is still going strong. He pours himself another glass.

   There have been so many nights when they've confessed their feelings for each other. _I have never felt this way about anyone before. Let's run away and get married in the morning – no really would you do it?_

   The years passed. A whirlwind of things happened. Dorian's father passed. Cullen was there for him, he, his sister and parents all came with Dorian to the funeral for support. They had become his family.

   Dorian doesn't know when things really changed. Do you ever? When it all seems to happen so slowly and you can't seem to find a certain point where it all started to go downhill. So subtle, so slow, but down you go and you can put up a fight, you can start running up the hill back to the point from where you started slipping. But you're still slipping.

   Dorian desperately wanted to marry Cullen. But his reasons for that changed during their last months together. Dorian could _feel_ him slipping away. If they married, surely Cullen would fight harder for them to stay together? The question that was never said out loud, but sobbed in Dorian's mind those nights Cullen was sleeping next to him and Dorian reached out. Clung to him as if he was a life raft. _Why are you not fighting for us anymore?_

   And then to hear Cullen say. _You are truly one of the most amazing people I have ever known and I really do love you... But._

   It had all sounded so formal. So painfully detached. And just like that Cullen wasn't his anymore. The name even started to sound unfamiliar. Dorian had said it so many times and in so many different ways. Whispered in the night when everything but whispers seemed too loud. Moaned; sometimes in bed and sometimes when Cullen had outdone himself in the kitchen (he is a great cook). Said through fits of laughter; because Cullen is clumsy as hell and watching him trying to move over a flat surface without incidents could be highly entertaining. From fright; that one time clumsy Cullen had nearly gotten run over by a bus (and Dorian had pulled him back by his shirt surprised by his own strength and told Cullen harshly to never ever do something like that again).

   Just some days before Cullen dumped him Dorian had gone to the movies by himself. Cullen had been working late again, but Dorian didn't mind going by himself. He'd seen _Call me by your name_ and had cried all the way through. It was funny, beautiful, sad, true. Relatable in so many ways. He'd cried so much. Had he known deep down inside what Cullen was planning to do?  _Dorian Dorian Dorian..._

   And then.

   In the middle of the Conversation they'd started talking just like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Dorian had told Cullen about the movie in great detail. Stopped himself, said something like _It's easier to talk about movies than what we're really talking about, isn't it?_ They'd steered back to the Conversation, but lost focus soon enough. For some reason they'd started talking about pastries. Cullen had told Dorian he'd had three cinnamon buns for lunch. That hade made Dorian cry. Because surely that was the last time Cullen was ever going to tell him anything of that sort. Silly everyday conversation has been sucked into the black hole that is The End.

   That night,after Cullen had gone to stay at a friend's place, Dorian had curled up in bed, hugging a pillow, crying and asking wordlessly _how do people survive this? How in hell do people survive this?_

   He'd tried to sleep, but failed. He'd given up and listened to a Sam Smith song he'd told himself he wasn't going to listen to. But he did, and cried some more.

   A sleepless night was followed by days of feeling unreal.

   The fire is starting to fade. Dorian kneels in front of the fireplace, watching the fire. Tomorrow Cullen will collect his boxes containing what Dorian thinks are Cullen's things, but may be his own. He can't remember who they really belonged to in the first place. Was that a book that Cullen loved first, or did Dorian? Was that the cosy shirt Cullen always stole from Dorian or was it the other way around?

   Dorian recalls the conversation they'd had some months before when they'd spoken about their future. Marriage, yes. Children, yes. That had surprised Cullen. He'd always thought Dorian didn't want kids. And he'd been so relieved, _I thought I was going to have to fight you on this._ They'd kissed and hugged.  _I love you_. It had all seemed genuine. Sometimes the things we want to be true and the things that are actually true intertwine and become one and the same. What did you say you want and what did you actually want? What happened in dreams and what happened in reality? 

   Dorian gets up, goes to the kitchen and rinses the wine glass in the sink. He brushes his teeth. Goes to bed under massive covers. Turns off the lights. He cries himself to sleep.

   His friends all say it will get better and rationally Dorian knows this to be true. He tries to imagine the morning he will wake up and realize that for the first time in a long time he did not cry himself to sleep.

   It all seems so far away, but even though it doesn't feel like he's getting any closer, he _is_ getting closer. He has to believe this.

   That some time soon he will have that morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sam Smith - Palace
> 
> My head is filled with ruins  
> Most of them are built with you  
> Now the dust no longer moves  
> Don’t disturb the ghost of you
> 
> They are empty, they are worn  
> Tell me what we built this for  
> On my way to something more  
> You’re that one I can’t ignore
> 
> I’m gonna miss you  
> I still care  
> Sometimes I wish we never built this palace  
> But real love is never a waste of time
> 
> Yeah I know just what you’re saying  
> And I regret ever complaining  
> About this heart and all its breaking  
> It was beauty we were making
> 
> And I know we’ll both move on  
> You’ll forgive what I did wrong  
> They will love the better you  
> But I still own the ghost of you
> 
> I’m gonna miss you  
> I’m still there  
> Sometimes I wish we never built this palace  
> But real love is never a waste of time
> 
> I’m gonna miss you  
> I’m still there  
> Sometimes I wish we never built this palace  
> But real love is never a waste of time  
> But real love is never a waste of time


End file.
